Hate is a strong word. I don’t hate my homeland completely. I just really have an awful time every time I am there. It’s so bad, I don’t really want to go back anymore. I grew up totally American (All American, as I like to say). I was born and raised in San Jose, California. For those readers who have never been
My Nani was a special woman. Yes, she shared many traits you’d associate with the typical Indian grandmother. She loved to cook, loved to take care of my Nanaji, and loved to dress up for weddings. But she also had a fiery independent side that came out in the way she raised her kids, with discipline, with guidance from the highest education
My Family Accepted My Brother’s Caucasian Wife. They Gave Me a Hard Time for Dating a Caucasian Man.
The day my brother first introduced Linda to my Bangladeshi parents, I remember my mother anxiously jittering around the living room before their arrival, making sure every little aspect of the house was how she wanted it to appear. The table was set elegantly with her finest china. Halwas were thinly sliced in perfect geometric symmetry. The sweet scent of freshly fried
Like so many others my life was upended during the pandemic. I was an international university student living in California and when the pandemic hit. I was just about to graduate. Unlike so many other international students who went back to their home countries after the universities allowed students to take online courses, I was not able to go back to my
Our kitchen is not like traditional kitchens you would find in the homes of regular Indian families. My wife does not do all the cooking. In our house, every family member takes turns making dinner. My wife cooks on Mondays and Tuesdays. I cook on Wednesdays and Sundays. My son Imran cooks on Thursdays and my daughter Anushka cooks on Fridays. When
I grew up in Lucknow in the 90s. I was the oldest of two siblings and I had a little brother, four years younger than me. I saw how much my parents, and especially my mother, doted on my younger brother. For anonymity’s sake (I don’t want to embarrass my brother publicly), let’s call my brother Ajju. Ajju was the perfect kid
Don’t be afraid to make mistakes When you used to bring home report cards, I used to scold you for getting Bs. My parents did the same thing. Only As were accepted in our household. Uncle Jeet (not his real name) and I both had shining report cards, or else we would get slapped. It bred in me a fear of failure.
The year I turned 31 was one of my best years. I married someone whom I believe is my soulmate. Up until that year, I had gone through a string of bad break ups. Three to be exact. Two of them were with ex-girlfriends who I used to love dearly. One of them was with an ex-fiance who I was head over